letter33

Dear Family and Friends,

You know, sometimes I wonder about the person who invented skiing, I mean,
really, what was that guy thinking anyway?!!? Was he sitting around in some
log cabin in the snow, looking at a hot plate and wondering, "I wonder if I
stood in that thing in the snow if it would make me get to work faster
everyday?!!?" Or was he taking a long walk in the woods, slipping and
sliding this way and that, arms flying to God knows where, thinking, "You
know, this could be fun if I had some long sticks to help me slide down that
huge canyon over there . . ." What was going through this guy's mind when
he plotted the most effective way to break a neck or two?!!?

Yes, I tried my luck at skiing for the first time today. Was I any good?!
You bet, if you call sliding down a monstorous hill on your rear end GOOD.
Will I do it again?! Only if you paid me a few hundred dollars and paved
that hill with soft grass or mattresses. Ahhh, but it was fun. My Dad and
I followed Slavi, our Bulgarian ski instructor, to the ski rental place for
our equipment before beginning our private instruction, reminding me how
glad I was that this "instruction" wasn't going to be a group ordeal. And,
the minute I put those tight boots on and struggled to drag my skis and
poles through the snow, I knew I was in trouble.

"Come on Chantel!" Slavi called as he raced up the hill to begin our
lesson. I toddled behind, thinking, "Heel, toe, pick up skis, heel, toe,
pick up poles . . ." Once we began, my Dad knew that I would need way more
instructing than he ever would and he took off to practice, leaving Slavi
and I to our own demise. And, the next thing I knew, old Slavi was beconing
and I was sliding . . . . "Aaaauuuugggghhhh!" I screamed, apparently the
only one on the hill who appeared to be screaming in terror. "I'm moving .
. . I'm MOVING . . ." I chanted like a Buddhist having a sudden revelation.
"I know you are," Slavi acknowledged with more patience than a kindergarten
teacher. "Just keep your eyes on me . . ." He grabbed my poles to push me
along and, then next thing I knew, I was on my back, headed straight for
poor Slavi!

I struggled to get up as the "hills were alive" with the sound of uproarious
laughter. Now, whoever invented skis obviously didn't think that many
people would fall while wearing the darn things. Once you are down, it's
practically impossible to stand back up!!! I struggled in the slippery snow
as Slavi tried to help me up and my shirt practically lifted over my head!
What a mess!!! Finally, I made it back to my feet again . . . by the sheer
power of God. And, though I longed to go dry my toes in the inviting
lounge, Slavi still pushed me to make it down that monsterous hill . . . was
that hour up YET?!!? We did a little more "pole action" before Slavi let go
and forced me to slide down the hill by myself, screaming bloody murder all
the way. Small children cowered from me as they raced down the hill,
teenagers mocked me, and Slavi's poor ears curled at the deafening tone of
my high-pitched screams.

I flew down the hill like a bat out of hell, my arms flew, my skis lurched,
my poles maimed innocent creatures, my eyes bounced out of their sockets as
my tongued lolled . . . I flew right smack-dab into my ski instructor's arms
and wrapped him into a huge bear hug for safety and just a little bit of
assurance.

The next thing I knew, Slavi was wrapping mw into a passionate embrace and
gently wiping the silver snowflakes from my brazen cheeks. He gazed
longingly into my adoring eyes and whispered softly, "You are the only one
for me . . . I will never love another . . . Come with me and I will never
make you fly down that nasty mountain again, my love." "Oh, Slavi," I
muttered seductively. "Take me away from all of this and keep me safe from
harm." And then his lips met mine, in a sweet kiss sure to melt even the
coldest snow . . .

WAIT A MINUTE . . . that's a different story! A girl can't help but
embellish, now can she? In all actuality, Slavi pried my limp body from his
own and continued to push me down that hill, like a cruel master in complete
control of those possessed skis. I screamed and slid, he beconed and
instructed. By the end of the longest hour of my life, I was being laughed
at by a line of kids waiting for the bunny ski lift and I was able to slide,
start, and stop my skis. A huge accomplishment as far as both myself and
Slavi are concerned. When Slavi left, I tried my new tricks once without
his aide, got bored and was in incredible pain, and then turned in my skis
to opt for warming my toes in the lounge instead. Hot Chocolate, anyone?!!?
I know I sure could use some!

Love from the slopes,
Nancy Kerrigan :-)